


Memories

by WritingWithFoxy



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Gen, Mystery, Paranormal, Suspense, Thriller
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-05-19 06:08:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14868174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingWithFoxy/pseuds/WritingWithFoxy
Summary: Another day. Another mission to foil Eggman. It would be a good distraction from the questions plaguing the young kits mind lately and a good playing field to test the new mini-bombs he had devised.At least that's what Tails thought until things took a turn for the weird and he found himself exploring his past in a way that's a little to real. All he can do now is put one foot in front of the other and press forward through this strange place looking for answers and a way to make peace with what he finds. Only the memories that unfold as he perseveres and the two people he meets along the way will reveal where this journey will take him and what lessons he'll learn.





	1. A Journey Begins

The sun shined and the cool breeze blew over the Mystic Ruins. Clear blue skies stretched out for miles over the small workshop on the hill. A young fox with two tails and an older hedgehog with distinctive blue fur both laid on the grass out back and stared at the sparse clouds floating by over head.

Miles “Tails” Prower and Sonic the Hedgehog, two of the heroes of mobius and one of the first lines of defense for big problems. Everything from mad scientists bent on world domination to alien invasions and ancient gods of darkness had been driven back by them and their friends.

For now they laid in peace with nothing disturbing them aside form the occasional cry of a seagull or fish splashing around in the water below the cliff. The cool ocean breeze and warmth of the sun’s rays cooling their fur and threatening to lull them off to sleep. A moment in paradise for them to be alone with each other and their own thoughts.

Tails stared up into the skies and found his mind wandering to places in the recesses of his memories he rarely explored. For some strange reason he found himself straining to recall his life long before he met Sonic. That time long before he somehow wound up all alone despite his young age. As far as he could recall he wasn’t much older than four when he met his best friend and surrogate big brother. He knew he had somehow lost his family and wound up an orphan but the memories of that and the life before it were foggy.

The most he could remember was a vague image of a pretty vixen he assumed was his mother. A bandanna usually covered her scarlett hair and her face was streaked with oil and grease. Yet she smiled warmly from behind the dirt and grime. His memories also associated her with the smells of oil and gas, the clanks of tools, and the roars and bangs of old engines springing to life.

Was she as much of a gearhead as he was and he had somehow gotten it from her?

Why was he thinking about this now? What had sparked this moment of soul searching in the corners of his mind for something concrete about his old life? He found himself looking over at his best friend and forming questions in his mind.

“Sonic?” he asked, “

“Yeah, buddy?” The hedgehog didn’t even bother to open his eyes.

“I know this is a weird question, but do you remember anything about your family?”

“Not to much. Just that my dad was some kind of soldier, like maybe the town militia. My mom was some kind of doctor or nurse. Why?”

“I was thinking about my family but I can’t remember much. Just a woman that I think was my mom.” Tails answered.

“I wish I could tell you something but you were alone when I found you. You didn’t have anything but a blanket and an old toy plane.”

“I know, both of them are still in my workshop. They felt important for some reason.” Tails answered.

“If you ever want my help looking into your past we can solve the mystery together,” Sonic sat up and smiled at the kit.

“Maybe someday, if I can ever remember more.” Tails answered

“Look on the bright side. At least we have each other, so despite everything neither of us alone.” Sonic looked out over the sea.

“Yeah..” Tails followed his gaze

The two sat in silence for for a time until both their wrist comms started buzzing in with an emergency signal. Something Tails had programmed to warn them if something that sounded like an Eggman attack was reported nearby.

Tails flipped open his comm and clicked a button. A female spoke about a small farm, about 10 miles outside of Station square, under siege. Coordinates flashed onto the display after a brief search through police systems.

“Think we should check it out?” Sonic asked

“I was starting to get bored, anyway,” Tails smiled and stood up to run towards the garage door of the workshop.

“Looks like today is going to be fun after all.” Sonic quickly followed.

————————————————————————————————————-

The Tornado cut through the skies like a bullet. It’s engine roaring and spitting fire like a dragon. Fields and clusters of trees flew by down below as the two heroes quickly approached their target.

“I don’t understand why Eggman would be attacking some random farm, what did some poor farmer ever do to him?” Tails raised his voice over the road of the engine and the rush of the wind.

“It’s Eggman, he might just being doing it for fun.” Sonic replied

“It just doesn’t make sense because he tends to at least make some attempt at tactical choices and planning,” Tails flipped a switch on the instrument panel, “I wonder if he found something out there.”

“If he did, then we’ll be there to keep him from getting his hands on the thing.”

“I guess, but it still worries me not knowing exactly what he’s up to.” Tails stared out the window

“Hey, we haven’t failed to take him down yet and I don’t plan to break that streak today,” Sonic leaned forward to place a hand on the kits shoulder

Tails just smiled and took a deep breath. Trying to let Sonic’s reassurances ease his troubled mind.

The rest of the flight was spent in silence watching the scenery go by. Nothing slowing them down or getting in their way as they hurtled towards the coordinates they intercepted from the police’s dispatch system. Within minutes a plume of smoke became visible over the horizon and Tails steadied himself before letting the plane drop lower to find a landing place.

The fields by the farm were crawling with badniks but no sign of any living mobian talking shelter anywhere. Was it abandoned? If it was then who would’ve reported the badniks skulking about? The smoke wasn’t even from the buildings but rather a badnick that had malfunctioned or fell prey to friendly fire smoldering in the grass. So he couldn’t chalk it up to an automated fire alarm of some kind, either.

He pushed it out of his mind and switched the plane to landing mode. Either way they had to make sure there was nobody in danger and remove the threat before they DID reach somewhere with mobians or overlanders around.

————————————————————————————————————————-

“You holding up okay, buddy?” Sonic called as he dented the armor of a robot with a swift kick.

“Fine, you?” Tails quickly dodged a laser blast and vaulted over the robot attempting to subdue him. Making sure to plant a small explosive on it’s armor as he did.

The device exploded with an inward force that rattled the machine and blew it’s optical camera from it’s socket. It was deathly still and silent for a moment as smoke bellowed out of of it’s wounds. At least until it began to creak and rock before falling over with a mighty thud against the soft earth.

“I gotta get me some of those!” Sonic called as he knocked another robot flat on its face.

Tails smiled and braced himself, spinning up his namesakes and eying a robot doing the closest it could to staring him down with a camera for an eye. Without warning he sprung forward using the force of his biological propellers to jet along the ground. Picking up speed as he shot between its legs and the wind knocked it off balance. With a mighty crash it hit the ground and was still save for spasms of motors and buzz of shorted circuits.

For anyone else his age, this might be a very bad day but for one of the heroes of Mobius it was just another day on the job. Much like his best friend and surrogate big brother he had even come to enjoy the work-out from smashing up Eggman’s walking deathtraps. Especially if it involved testing out his latest gadgets. He punctuated that last thought by whirling around and tossing another bomb at one sneaking up behind him. Silently cheering to himself as he landed it right on it’s optical lens.

He chuckled to himself as it waved its arms in a panic and ran away down the hill. The quick pace of heavy, creaky footsteps was suddenly silenced in the distance by the loud pop of the explosive. He was really starting to like these micro-bombs for evening the playing field a bit between him and Eggman’s forces.

He turned to a small horde of bots. Bits and pieces flew out the crowd and into the sky as a blue blur weaved in and out of their ranks. Claws, feet, bits of hull, cameras, circuits. Anything that could be ripped or cut off of a badnik was flying every which way.

Just as he was about to run into the crowd to help his friend his sensitive ears picked up a noise that made him pause. Cries for help coming from the ruined farm buildings nearby

“Sonic, someone is calling for help!” he shouted.

“I got this handled, buddy! Go and do what you have to do!” Sonic called.

He turned and stared down the line of bots between him and the buildings. If someone was in trouble it was up to him to save the day while Sonic was held up with his own mechanical mob. He prepared himself and began to spin up his tails once again. Eying up the obstacles in his way as they seemed to taunt him by opening and closing their metal claws. A deep breath was drawn and he prepared to push himself forward.

Shooting off like a bullet he cut it as close to each one as he could to throw them off their feet with the wind generated by his movement. Each one falling one by one as he shot past and drew closer and closer to the farm. As one stepped out in his path he hit the ground and slid straight between its legs. Placing a bomb in it’s backside as he came out the other side and shielding his head as it went off.

Quickly turning around he noticed the smoking hole it’s it’s backside and caught himself laughing at the unfortunate placement of the bomb. It eventually fell forward with a mighty thud and smoke billowed from the hole as something caught fire inside. Before he could admire the immature humor of the situation much longer he once again heard the cries for help.

After pinning down the sound as coming from the barn he moved forward, hurrying to vault over the front gate and towards the damaged structure. He quickly scanned all sides as he moved to ensure nothing was sneaking up on him and moved forward at a steady pace until he reached the great doors.

It was clear from the rotting wood and chipping paint the place hadn’t been pretty even before the attack. He was almost afraid of getting splinters just looking at the thing and couldn’t discern how much damage was actually done by Eggman’s machines. Was the massive door always splintered at the framework and half town from it’s great hinges? Did the roof always have that huge hole blown in it’s side from some storm long ago?

Other questions entered his mind as he stared at the structure. Questions that seemed irrelevant to the situation at hand but still somehow significant suddenly plagued his mind. Why was it suddenly eerily quiet? Had it been this cold and cloudy five minutes ago? He pulled his tails around his body and rubbed his arms. He suddenly noticed a misty fog had started to build up like right after a morning rain despite it being clear just before he jumped the gate.

He had to wonder if it was some kind of new super badnik lurking about with a fog machine and some kind of humidifier system to cool the air. He wouldn’t put it past Eggman to resort to messing with him and Sonic when brute force failed so many times. The kit steadied himself, half expecting some terrifying form of gnarled steel to show itself from either the sky or the the fog.

Yet nothing came.

Just the deathly still that had come over the entire place. The sounds of combat had even ceased Just a cold silence that felt like a warning something bad was coming. No wind, no rain, no sounds of animals. Only this damp and cold quiet as the fog seem to engulf everything but him and the structure in front of him.

“Help, someone, help me!” the voice called again from inside.

Tails snapped out of his stupor. No matter what was going on he had to help if someone was in trouble. Pushing everything to the back of his mind he rushed inside the darkened barn and tried to see through the blackness. Squinting to see if he could make out any mobian or overlander forms.

“Where are you?” he called, “I’m here to help!”

“Over here, a beam fell on my leg when the fighting started and I can’t move it!” a male voice called.

“Just hold on!” Tails thought hard for a moment, trying to think of anyway to create a source of light. His eyes fell on his wrist comm and he smiled. He flipped open the device and with the press of a few buttons the screen came to life with a bright image of a menu.

“I can see you!” the voice called, “your back is to me.”

Tails whirled around and carefully walked forward by the light of the device until he saw the outline of someone sitting on the ground. As he grew closer he could make out the face of a rabbit with red hair and grey fur smiling at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked the man

“I think so. I don’t think I’m badly injured. Just pinned.” he answered.

“I’m Tails,” the kit crouched next to the man

“I know, how could I not recognize one of Team Sonic?” he managed a laugh, “I’m Tommy.”

“Let’s see if can get you free, okay, Tommy?” Tails turned his attention to the beam and began trying to pry it loose, “it seems stuck good. I might have to call Knuckles or something.”

Distracted by the challenge presented to him he failed to notice the sound of cracking wood up above. Failed to notice the warning signs of danger until Tommy was calling for him to get out of the way. At least until he felt something heavy knock him over the head. He fell to the dirt floor and groaned.

“Kid, are you okay? Please say something!” Tommy called

Tails barely head his voice as he slowly drifted off. Swearing he heard boots softly crossing the dirt floor somewhere in the barn just before he passed out


	2. Long Way From Home

Tails moaned and laid still. Waiting for the slowly subsiding pain in his head to completely vanish before even considering the prospect of opening his eyes. Choosing instead to survey his surroundings with his other senses. The first thing he noticed was that he was definitely laying on moderately comfortable bed instead of a dirt floor. Not as comfortable as his own bed or as the bed in a fancy hotel but comfortable nonetheless.

 

The second thing he noticed was the odd smell of the cool air. It wasn’t necessarily a bad smell like filth or rot, just the smell of a room that must have spent years years sitting unused and untouched. The unmistakable aroma of dust and stale air filled the room and mingled with a hint of what smelled like fresh air.  It seemed like whoever brought him here must have opened a window in some attempt to make the room more comfortable. It felt as though they had taken the time put clean bedding down for him, as well. 

 

The final thing he noticed was silence. Just calm silence not even broken by crickets or the whisper of the wind. How could a room with an open window be so deathly silent he could hear his own body moving against the fabric of the blanket and sheets? As the pain finally faded away he started to realize how little sense this all made.

 

He slowly opened his eyes and a plane enough ceiling came into focus. Bumpy and wavy plaster applied by an inexperienced hand like so many old buildings painted white. Towards the edge of his vision he could make out an old fan. It sat motionless under a thick layer of dust and cobwebs that stained the wood-grain on the long blades grey and smothered any glint the polished brass of the three light fixtures may have had. Yet all three held light bulbs that seemed freshly placed and brightly lit.     

 

Letting his head roll to the side he saw dark red walls. The color so many hotel rooms were painted in an attempt to look regal. He could make out three pieces of furniture under the glow of the ceiling light. All as dusty and disused as the rest of the room.

 

A heavy wooden desk like you might see the teacher in any classroom sitting behind as they watched their students work. No more than six feet long with simple wooden knobs on all it’s drawers.Three down each side and one in the middle at the top that would be above the users legs. On top of it was a small lamp with a wide, green glass shade like you might find in libraries. 

 

A small dresser  built just as simple as the desk but clearly made of heavy wood rather than the cheap particle board of modern furniture. Brass handles adorned the faces of it’s four drawers.    

  
  
  
  


Finally, the nightstand next to bed he laid in. Once again simple as the rest It with a single drawer with a wooden knob affixed to its face. A lamp with a polished brass body and glass shade sat atop it with a folded sheet of paper half hidden under its base. A word written on the paper was partially visable. He stared for a moment before reaching for it and freezing when he realized the world was a name:

 

Miles

 

His real name. 

 

He ran his fingers over the neat and florid script and stared at the name for several moments before carefully unfolding the paper. Inside was a short note written in the same handwriting with the utmost care.

 

_ Whatever happens, do not be afraid. _

 

_ Even as you walk through the darkest shadows do not fear. You never walk alone and there will always be a source of light if you know where to look.   _

 

_ Have courage and let your heart guide you.    _

 

_ Have faith in yourself and faith in those that walk beside you. Eternal hope that there’s always something more over the horizon _

 

_ Have love in your heart so even if it aches you will always know a comforting truth to light the way. _

 

_ Finally: have the wisdom to understand that truth. _

 

_ -A Friend _

 

So now he was in a strange room in an abandoned building and drug there by someone

That likes to leave cryptic notes with self-improvement tips. This didn’t seem like the start of a horror movie at all.   

 

He sighed and glanced down at the floor, taking a double take when he noticed an object under the nightstand. A blue backpack with with the twin-tailed logo he used on his inventions and vehicles on the flap. Without thinking he reached down and pulled it up onto the bed. Much like the rest of the room it seemed well-loved. He also couldn’t shake the feeling it was oddly familiar despite owning no such backpack.

  
  


Half afraid of what he might find inside he worked up the nerve to unbuckle the clip holding the top flap down. The first object to catch his eye was a composition style notebook with it’s black and white cover. The label on on the cover bore his name much like the note and in smaller script underneath the phrase “journal”. There was a pen taped to the cover beneath.

 

Flipping it open he noticed more writing from the same hand as the note on the inside cover. It simply read “to keep track of your journey”. On the first page a doodle clearly from a small child. A chill ran up his spine when he registered that the figures crudely drawn on the page looked like him and the woman from the his memories he assumed his mother. 

 

The question of “what the heck is going on here!?” screamed out in his mind as he stared at the page and his own name written messily in crayon on the picture. He was all alone in this room that was Chaos knows where and left there by someone that was leaving him notes about some kind of challenge he could only guess waited on the outside.

 

Yet a part of him also felt compelled to tear the pen off the cover. He turned it over in his hands and slowly the flipped book to a blank page. Staring as he suddenly felt the urge to make an entry as if something was telling him logging whatever journey laid ahead was important.

 

He looked out the window into the night and back down as he began to write, wondering to himself what his saviors goal was in leaving him here.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The old staircase creaked and groaned as the kit carefully made his way down the steps. Once he reached the halfway mark he leaned over the railing to survey the room below and realized he was in an old hotel or inn of some kind. The reception desk stood unmanned at the other end of the room. A logbook gracing its surface and dim lights illuminating the scene to show most of the keys on the back wall had been lost or stolen.

 

Carefully and cautiously he made his way to the landing and stood for a moment taking in the dusty lobby now that he had a more open vantage point. It looked like something from a Scooby Doo cartoon with it’s red walls and the layers of dust covering every surface. As he looked around the room his eyes fell on a painting that stood out as much cleaner than everything else.

 

It was a simple, black canvas depicting a small church in the countryside on a starry night. He found himself transfixed on scene and how out of place the painting was in this ruin of a building. He scanned the image looking for a signature but found only a compass rose in the corner. Lovingly painted with a fine brush in black ink save for the marking for north written in gold.

 

With a deep breath he stepped back and turned his gaze to the desk. One last look at the painting and he walked over and circled around behind the counter. Not like any employees only rules were relevant at this point. He blew on the book and coughed as a cloud of dust flew back up into his face.

 

Once he could open his watering eyes he looked at the pages to find a list of names. Each and everyone one his finger passed as he scanned down the pages had a check-in and check out date. What caught his eye the most was that many of the names were stamped with a small marking resembling a bird. Did whoever was dragging people here mark which people got out alive?

 

He banished the thought and turned away, his eyes falling upon a single key hanging on the wall with a note forced onto the hook behind it. Once they were freed he examined something that looked nothing like a standard hotel key. Just a simple gold house key attached to a keychain consisting of a clear plastic shell with a photo of a sports car inside.

 

Figuring the note might hold a clue he unfolded it and read it to himself:

 

_ Danielle left the keys to her shop here again while she was looking for some tourist that hired her to fix his broken down car. Third time this week she’s lost them while looking for some deadbeat so please remind her to keep better track of her belongings. _

 

_ -Mikey _

 

Okay, that’s some direction. Was this a this a clue that he needed to find the auto-shop this key went to? He smiled at finally having some sense of direction to cling to and took ou his backpack to place the items inside.

 

Without thinking he pulled out the journal and quickly took note:

 

_ I found a key in the hotel lobby with a note claiming it’s the key to a local mechanic’s shop and she lost it while looking for a client. I’ll keep my eyes open in case there’s something important there.  _

 

He quickly packed up his bag and began to search around the area behind the desk for anything else useful. Fruitlessly shuffling through papers and stationary for anything he might have missed at first glance. Almost giving up until he noticed a package in one of the mail slots much fresher and newer looking than everything else. He carefully reached up and pulled it down and read the hand-written not stuck to it.

 

_ Complimentary gift from the management for the young gentleman currently using our only filled room. Sorry I don’t know his name but nobody tells me a thing _

 

_ -Mikey _

 

Did that mean him? He pondered it for a moment and wondered if he should open the package before realizing he was likely the only one in town so it didn’t matter. Gently and carefully he placed it on the counter and started peeling back the brown paper to reveal a black box something like what fancy candies might come in. Why was he thinking of food now of all times?

 

Shaking off the thought he gently worked the lid loose and lifted the fabric covering the contents before starring slack jawed. It was at least a dozen of his own mini-bombs nestled neatly inside the soft velvet. Did the person that saved him take these off his person as a joke? He did still have several in his satchel when he was knocked out. Before thinking about the prospect of being robbed while unconcious much longer he wrapped the bombs in the cloth and tucked them into a pouch on his bag.

 

He slung it over his shoulder and made his way around the counter and towards the front door. His footsteps on the carpet oddly loud in the oppressive silence as he approached. He took a deep breath and readied himself for what might be outside as he reached for the knob. Mentally preparing and letting the cold brass rest under his gloved hand until he slowly and carefully turned the knob.

  
  
  
  
  


Nothing.

 

He tried it twice more more and got nothing but a stuff partial turn as if it was locked despite no sign of a locking mechanism on the knob itself. It was either jammed tight or locked from the outside. He twisted and pulled with all his might, even planting his foot on the frame for leverage to no avail.

 

Either by design or by bad luck he was going to have to search the rest of the building to find another way out. With a sigh of defeat he turned around and scanned the room one more time until he noticed a set of double doors in the back. A sign was placed in front of them that was still legible despite the ravages of age: 

 

_ Complimentary Breakfast served 8AM-10:30AM.  _

 

With a feeling of defeat he crossed the room to the cafeteria door and placed his hand on the handle. Stopping look back at the painting one last time before twisting it down and pushing open the wooden door.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Just like lobby outside the room looked untouched for years. Like someone had cleaned the room to prepare for breakfast one morning and then just left. Tables neatly set with napkins still folded and laying on top the plates to contrast the thick layers of dust that stuck to every surface it could adhere to. Pure white tablecloths still oddly unstained and untainted despite the time they must have been sitting uncleaned.

 

As he passed one of the tables he reached down and picked up the menu. The logo on top was surrounded by flowers and proclaimed it to be the Green Gardens hotel. A motto underneath reading “Your temporary home away from home, all weary travelers welcome to rest here on the way to where they belong”

 

The pictures on the cover showed both recent and old photos of a small, multi-story hotel you might see in the historic part of any small town. Just brown bricks with a wooden porch not unlike something from the 1800s around the entrance. A sign with the name aligned vertically sticking sideways out of it’s face, hanging from a metal pole.

 

He absentmindedly opened it to find a children’s maze game completed in yellow crayon. He traced his finger from the start to the finish and found himself trying to remember when he was younger and might have sat with his family in such a place filling out worksheets like it and waiting for food.

  
  


He froze when he noticed a crude portrait of a red-haired vixen on the corner labeled “mommy”. He could only assume this stuff had been planted to mess with him, but then who would know about the woman in his memories? Without thinking to much more about it he pulled the book from his open backpack and tucked it inside, fully intending to ask whoever brought him here about all of this when he found them.

 

Completely fed up with the entire place he looked around before stuffing the book back into his bag and briskly walking over to the patio doors. He grabbed the handles and attempted to force the door open to find it locked up right. He moved down the next door and found it locked just as tight and the next door after that. Beginning panic he reached the last set of doors and jiggled the handles as hard as he could, violently shaking the door in some vain attempt to get it open. 

 

The door creaked, groaned, and shook but held strong. Yet he kept trying to conquer it  until he found himself gasping for breath from the exertion. He finally stopped and fell to the floor, twisting around to place his back against the door. Breathing heavily and looking about the room while desperately trying to think of some way out didn’t involve going deeper into the building and risking finding more surprises from his unknown host. 

 

He closed his eyes and felt his mind start drift and felt oddly calm as a voice echoed in his head.

 

“Don’t give up

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Like an old memory or a dream he felt himself going through motions without making conscious decisions. Looking down he saw a binder with a picture of an engine and when he looked up he saw the red-haired woman sitting next to him.

 

“I like learning but sometimes this is hard,” he said.

 

“I know you can do it, honey. You watched me replace what’s in here on a car yesterday.” the woman smiled and pointed to a plastic box at the end of a long and thick hose.”

 

“I know, I know!” he shouted happily, “the air filter goes in there!”

 

“See, honey?” she smiled ruffled the fur on his head, “you just have to keep trying and never give up. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Those weird echoed in his head and for the first since he woke up he felt like everything would be okay. He had no idea what triggered the memory but it somehow gave him the strength to stand and forge ahead.

 

He’d make it home and see his friends again no matter what. 


End file.
